


Who Would've Known?

by DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 15:43:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6201220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper/pseuds/DestielPhanCaleo_Shipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America having a dream about when he first met England but he’s really confused and it's in the middle of a meeting and he sleep-talks what he’s thinking in the dream.</p><p>I do not own Hetalia or any of it's characters. All credit goes to the creators of this wonderful anime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Would've Known?

**Author's Note:**

> By request of DestielFOBandme, here is another (another if you've read my first one) UsUk fanfiction.

America’s POV:

_ What? _

I sit up and scan my surroundings, I’m in a… field? With really tall, almost dying, grass.

The ground below me is a bit damp and the sky above me is bright and blue.

_ Where am I? _

I hear loud whispers-they shouldn’t even be called whispers was how loud they were-somewhere a few feet in behind me.

“Oi, Finland, could that be the boy?” France’s voice is heard behind me.

“Y-yes, that’s right,” Finland responds.

“I knew it! He seems like us!” England says proudly.

Even now, after so many years, it still hurts to hear his voice.

I don’t move, both out of curiosity as to what they’ll do and who they’re talking about.

“How about that France? His hair looks exactly like mine!” He continues, pretty much yelling-England isn’t very good at whispering when he’s in a good mood. “There’s no mistake he’s my little brother!”

_ Little brother? England has a little brother? Isn’t that me? Who is this boy they’re talking about? _

“No! He looks like me, his eyebrows are exactly like mine!” France exclaims. “Take a good look! That’s proof he’s  _ my  _ little brother!”

_ Eyebrows do mean a lot when it comes to England,  _ I smirk.

I turn around, shocked to see the three of them looking so… different.

Finland nods and smiles to me and I nod back.

“Ah! Which part resembles me?” Finland asks.

“Well, no, no…” England says, “it’s not about if he resembles us or not!”

“Right, rather than the resemblance,” France doesn’t even bother whispering, “things like the depth of love and what’s inside his heart are more important.”

_ France? Caring about what’s inside people’s hearts? Huh, who would’ve known? _

“What?” Finland asks incredulously.

_***-*-*-*-*Time Skip*-*-*-*-*** _

“Although I’m busy, I got up early so I could see you,” I hear England’s voice behind me again and I turn around.

_ Why does he look so nervous and… Wait! Is he looking down at me! I’m taller than him! Why is he looking down at me?! _

“You should appreciate it,” he continues.

_ Oh, England, that’s not something you tell people. _

I have no idea why but the words just come tumbling out of my mouth. 

“Ah! You’ve come! I’m happy to see you.” I say, my voice high and reeking of child-like innocence.

_ What? _

“Wh-what? You’re not running away?” England asks, mostly to himself, it seems.

_ Why would I run away from you, England? _

“No, I’m fine. I’ve learned quite a bit about myself lately.”

“I-I see… Well, I’m happy to see you too,” he stutters.

_ Oh my god England, you don’t know what that does to me, you idiot. _

“You grow fast, don’t you?” He asks, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

I smile up at him, still not used to the fact that I have to.

“Okay, then! That makes it easy. From today on, you’re my little brother!” He announces.

“Okay,” I nod. “Then I’ll call you big brother.”

_ When the hell did I start calling England big brother. Oh, no, that’s not something I’d want to call England-of all people. _

He seems shocked by this, rendered speechless and wide-eyed for a moment.

“Well,” he says, wiping his eye for some reason, “‘England’ is fine. That’d be good enough.”

“O-okay,” I say.

_ Thank god, I don’t want to call him big brother. Not someone I love as much as him. _

“America!” I hear suddenly and everything becomes black for a millisecond then I’m jolted back to my seat at the table of the Allied Powers conference room.

I sit up, wide-eyed, my heart racing from the sudden scare.

“Wh-what?” I ask, looking around and blushing at all the eyes on me.

Then the laughter erupts and everyone but England is laughing loudly, banging their fists on the table and hiding their faces in their arms as their shoulders shake.

England, who was standing in front of the chalk board and talking about something, was staring at me, his mouth agape and a red blush was prominent on his cheeks.

“Wh-what h-happened? What’s s-so funny?” I ask, glancing at China, France and Russia.

 

England’s POV:

I noticed a while ago that America had a fallen asleep but I ignored it, continuing with my speech on a strategy to fight the Allied Powers.

It wasn’t until I heard, “Little brother? England has a little brother?” That's when me and the other Allies actually stopped what we were doing to notice.

“Isn’t that me?” He slurs, his voice a slight bit muffled since his head was buried in his arms. “Who’s this boy they’re talking about?”

I feel France’s eyes on me and when I look over he’s raising a questioning eyebrow.

I shrug,  _ the hell if I know. _

“Eyebrows do mean a lot when it comes to England,” I can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he mutters that sentence.

I splutter, “What?”

The other Allies chuckle and when I go over to wake him up China stops me, “Wait.” He says.

I don’t want to but I stand behind China, listening for America to speak again.

“France? Caring about what’s inside people’s hearts? Huh, who would’ve known?”

France’s jaw drops and everyone else, as well as I, laugh but not loud enough to wake up America.

“Why does he look so nervous and… Wait! Is he looking down at me! I’m taller than him! Why is he looking down at me?!” America continues.

I chuckle, thinking back to when I used to be taller than him.

“Oh, England, that’s not something you tell people.” 

I raise an eyebrow, France snickers a few seats down.

“Why would I run away from you, England?”

“Can I wake him up now,” I say, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable.

Russia shakes his head, smiling lightly, leaning towards America to hear him better.

“Oh my god England, you don’t know what that does to me, you idiot.”

“Guys, I really-”

“Shh, England, just a moment.” France holds up a hand, leaning forward as well.

“When the hell did I start calling England big brother. Oh, no, that’s not something I’d want to call England-of all people.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, scuffing the ground lightly with my boot.

“Thank god, I don’t want to call him big brother. Not someone I love as much as him.” He says, his voice softening.

“America!” I say, shocked he’d ever think something like that.

The others glare at me for a moment before their attention is grabbed by America who shot upright, his eyes wide and bleary.

“Wh-what?” He asks as he looks around, confused, as the others erupt into laughter.

“Wh-what h-happened? What’s s-so funny?” He asks, glancing at China, France and Russia in turn before locking his eyes on mine.

His look pleads for help but I look away, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

“Meetings over,” I mutter, walking swiftly out the door.

America has a knack of acting before thinking, he must’ve done it now because whilst the other countries laugh louder, America gets up, his chair squeaking against the linoleum floor, his footsteps right behind me.

I try to shut the door roughly behind me but his hand stops it, shutting it behind him much softer than what I had intended to.

He jogs to catch up with me.

“England? Are you mad at me for falling asleep in the middle of the meeting?” He asks, his tone just above pleading.

I don’t say anything, just walking and trying keeping my face blank.

“I’m sorry England, you know I fall asleep in the meetings a lot-it’s nothing personal.”

I glare at him, as I do so I finally see the worried look on his face.

_ Why does he care so much about if I’m mad or not? _

I stop in my tracks, America almost tripping over himself to do the same, curling in on myself slightly.

“Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

He looks even more confused about this.

“Uh… When I first met you, I think.” He says, his eyebrows knit in concentration.

“Well… You said… things.” I say, giving up halfway on telling him what I wanted to because I couldn’t!

“So specific,” he mutters.

I glare at him again.

“You want to know what you said?” I ask icily and he nods. “You said France didn’t care about what’s inside people’s hearts. You said I was taller than you in your dream. You said that something wasn’t what I should tell people. You asked why you would run away from me and that I didn’t know what something… did to you.” I look away. “You asked when you started calling me big brother and you were glad you didn’t have to call me that, not someone…”

I grimace, “You love so much.”

America doesn’t say anything and I can’t bring myself to look up but I feel like he must be looking at me weirdly or repulsively.

I shake my head, stepping away. “Forget it,” I say.

America’s hand reaches out and grabs my arm, pulling me towards him.

“So?”

“What do you-” I look up, confused.

He’s smiling.

“Is it bad? That I love you, I mean?” He asks, his voice low and close to my ear.

I pull back a bit so I can see his face and he’s smirking-his whole demeanor having changed.

“Wh-wh-”

“I love you, England. What’s so hard to accept about that?”

I shake my head, “I-I d-don’t-”

He smiles, keeping his eyes on mine for a moment longer before slowly leaning forward.

His eyes flicker between mine and my lips.

I can’t hold back anymore-I grab his collar and close the gap between our lips.

I feel him smile lightly against my lips and he wraps his arms delicately around my waist.

I pull back with a light gasp a few moments later when I can tell the kiss will start to become heated.

“I-I-”

“God England,” he sets his hands on my shoulders. “Calm down. You look like you’re going to explode.”

“I-I-”

He rolls his eyes, pulling me forward and wrapping his arms around my waist again- _ he’s hugging me, _ I think with a start.

“I love you, England.” He says softly, stroking my hair.

I slowly relax, sighing and resting my forehead against his shoulder.

“I-I l-love you, t-too,” I mutter, hiding my face in his shirt when I hear quiet laughter a few feet down the hall.

“C’mon,” he whispers, grabbing my hand and dragging me out the building.

I really do love him, I just hadn’t thought of it much. I’ve always tried avoiding that thought because I knew-no, I  _ thought  _ he didn’t love me.

Huh, who would’ve known?


End file.
